


Shatter Upon Impact

by Imoshen



Series: SPN Lucifer Bingo [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU probably, Bad Thoughts, Blood, In the Cage, Lucifer Falls, Lucifer whump, M/M, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), break-ups, mention of rape, non-graphic, oops I slipped in Nickifer, this one hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoshen/pseuds/Imoshen
Summary: Hell is Hell, even for the King of the Fallen.Hell is Hell, even for the Viceroy of Heaven.Memories are stirred from before the Fall - and the Fall itself.
Relationships: Lilith & Lucifer, Lucifer/Michael (Supernatural)
Series: SPN Lucifer Bingo [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1379629
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28
Collections: Heaven and Hell Bingo, SPN Lucifer Bingo, SPN Rare Ship Bingo 2020





	1. Into the Cage

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: I allude to off-screen rape in chapter two. It's not graphic, it's not spelled out, but it's there. Please heed the warning if this might trigger you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the square The Cage on my Heaven and Hell Bingo card and the square In the Cage on my Lucifer Bingo card.

The Cage sucks them all down, with no regards to who or what they are. It has been opened and it won’t stop until someone is caught within.

It has been its purpose since its creation. God learned from his mistake with his sister. His only mistake this time around was to trust that no demon would willingly sacrifice themselves and thus break the final seal. He did not take into account how deep Lilith’s hatred for him ran. (Or maybe it was planned, after all, maybe He did intend for them to fight to the death. Lucifer wouldn’t put it past him, not anymore.)

Sam fights him all the way down, but Lucifer _knows_ that, if Sam is in control of their shared body when they crash, he won’t survive. Lucifer will, because there’s a very limited list of things and circumstances that could kill him, but Sam is still human.

He barely manages to take control in time to turn their lethal crash into a survivable one. Crashing into the bars hurts like Hell (no pun intended) but Lucifer curls tight around Sam’s soul and bears the pain with a snarl.

Sam shrieks and fights him. Fuck, but he misses Nick and his unconditional trust.

(Please, for all that is unholy, let someone have taken care of Nick. Lucifer promised he’d return, and now he won’t be able to keep that promise. It burns worse than being trapped in the Cage again.)

Lucifer clings to Sam until he can hear and feel the impact of Michael/Adam against the other side of the Cage, then he gives in and releases the human, leaves his body. Being one with his True Vessel was an intoxicating experience, but he doesn’t want to share a body with a soul that is terrified of him and fights him all the time. It gets exhausting.

With no vessel to inhabit, Lucifer hovers over Sam, a protective cloud of celestial intent to make certain Michael will not attack the hunter. (He’s not sure when God got rid of the vessels made for Angels and Archangels. He lost his vessel when he was cast into the Cage, and his form still shows the damage the mark and the Fall did.) In here, there is no death, but Michael could still do a lot of damage. Sam may not appreciate it, but he is still Lucifer’s to protect.

(How bitter, that he was so right and yet so wrong about humans. Lucifer has time, in the endless, short moment to appreciate the irony of two humans, so different and tied to him by gossamer strings of fate. Even greater the irony that these two humans, each in their own way, re-taught him the strength of love.)

Michael doesn’t attack. He also doesn’t leave his vessel. He shifts until he can look at Lucifer, his face twisted into a bitter expression. “Are you happy now?”

It’s an accusation as much as a question. If he had a vessel, Lucifer would snort and glare. Without one, all he can settle for is an indignant flare. _Do I look happy, Viceroy?_

Michael winces. “Point taken. Fuck but that hurt.”

Lucifer can’t help the wave of schadenfreude, and he knows Michael can feel it. His wings still ache where they shattered so long ago. He looks down at Sam, who has done the smart thing and passed the fuck out. He wishes he could do that. Maybe then the memories, freshly stirred by seeing Michael and then promptly falling into the Cage again, would hurt less if he was unconscious.

Or maybe they would be worse.

Lucifer curls into a tight ball, still hovering close to Sam in case Michael gets stupid again. He does his best to ignore the memories.

Hell is Hell, even for the King of the Fallen.


	2. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the square Whump on my Rare Ship Bingo Card and for the square Pre-Fall on my Lucifer Bingo card.

The mark on his arm is still faintly red and burns. Lucifer doesn’t like to look at it anymore, not even to remind himself of how much his Father trusts him.

He was chosen to bear the mark, to make certain His sister remains locked away where she can do no more damage. Still, in the deepest, quietest part of himself he wishes his Father had chosen someone else now. It is a wish he hates himself for, at the same time – how can he wish this on one of his siblings? The constant burn can be ignored with practice, but still, it is always there.

As are… other things.

Lucifer woke up alone in their bed again, his mate gone long enough the nest had gone cold next to him.

_Not good enough_ , the voice hisses in his thoughts. _You’re only second-best there, too, Lucifer._

Lucifer shakes his head and grits his teeth against the pain the thought brings. They are bonded, tied to one another on the deepest level. He isn't second-best, not to his mate and not to his Father.

_Lies,_ the voice hisses as he rolls out of their nest and dresses for the day. _Lies, such pretty lies you tell yourself._

Lucifer grits his teeth and ignores the voice. It gets harder to ignore when he reaches out for his mate, hoping for a brief contact, and runs into a wall. His mate has closed their bond to him… for the third time in seven days.

Lucifer swallows and only notices how tightly he’s tucked his wings against his back when they start to ache hours later.

The bond still hasn’t opened again.

It gets worse.

Lucifer barely sees Michael anymore when they don’t meet in an official capacity, the Viceroy of Heaven, the Morningstar, the Messenger of God and the Healer. He goes to bed to an empty nest, he wakes up alone most days.

Michael doesn’t talk to him, and the bond is painfully silent.

Lucifer works through his frustration in the training salles and practice rings. He flies, long and hard, and he does his best to ignore the voice that hisses in his thoughts.

_You’re not good enough, you never **were** good enough, they’ll replace you. See, he’s already tired of you! You’re so weak, so needy, such a sham of an Archangel!_

“SHUT UP!”

Lucifer blinks, breathing hard. He screamed that, and going by the state of the practice ring, he also lost control. He’s lucky nobody was there to see that.

The burn in the mark intensifies as he sets the ring back to rights. Lucifer grimaces and rubs the spot, though that never helps.

He wants to lay his head on Michael’s shoulder and feel those strong arms and wings wrap around him. He wants to hear Michael call him “Starlight” and smile. He wants to tell his Father of how the mark burns, how it grows worse and worse.

Michael doesn’t come home for days on end.

His Father doesn’t have time.

Lucifer grits his teeth. _You’re **weak** , disgusting, so needy, you need to show them you’re strong!_

Ignoring the voice gets harder and harder.

Humans.

Lucifer can only stare as his Father gushes about his latest project, all bright eyes and wide smiles and such excited happiness it radiates from him.

Humans. Weak, mortal little things he wants to gift the Earth to.

“My best, my greatest creation!” God calls them, and Lucifer winces. His Father had called him that, once upon a time. Now, he barely looks at Lucifer.

Michael actually comes to stand next to him a while later, where he’s standing on the edge of Heaven and peering down at the strange humans in their little garden. “Paradise”, their Father had called it. “We shall love and guide them as our Father commands,” he says, and Lucifer snarls.

“What does he need them for?” he hisses, echoing the words of the voice in his head. “Aren’t we enough?”

Michael gives him a strange look. He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t touch, doesn’t open their bond. Lucifer has stopped attempting to reach out in turn. It hurts worse when Michael doesn’t react.

“You will see in time, Lucifer.”

What he sees are the plans their Father has for the humans. They’re to multiply and have dominion over the Earth, and when they die – because they’re weak and mortal – their _souls_ are to come to Heaven.

Not even their own home will be free of humans.

He is not the only one who isn’t happy about that, but he is the only one who goes to confront their Father about it. God smiles thinly at him.

“Well, they have to go _somewhere_ ,” he says absently, already turned back to his worktable. “It won’t be so bad, Lucifer.”

He doesn’t speak of it again.

He doesn’t speak of it again, but still unrest grows in Heaven. Angels disagree over the topic of humans, some are in favor, others agree with Lucifer.

A lot of the Angels are warriors. It doesn’t take too long until it comes to blows.

Lucifer learns of it from Raphael after his sibling patched the guilty parties up. Raphael’s lips are thin with disapproval, and the voice in his head is only too happy to tell him that disapproval is aimed at him.

It has a lot to say these days, and Lucifer can’t ignore it anymore because he agrees with it in so many ways.

Michael doesn’t even look at him anymore when he flies by.

Lucifer wants to know what is so great about humans, so he flies down to Earth to watch them. They are a lot like Angels, he thinks after a while… just a lot weaker, and of course, mortal.

Some of them are very curious, too… and utterly fearless despite their mortality. It is a woman who finally dares to come up to where he’s hidden himself in a tree’s rich foliage. She climbs up with utter disregard to the fall that would seriously harm her, if not end her life outright. A little out of breath, she settles on the branch directly below his and peers up at him. “What _are_ you?”

Her courage impressed him, and her curiosity reminds him of Gabriel, so Lucifer answers.

“I’m an Archangel.” He twitches one of his wings, watches as her eyes grow wide as she takes in the feathery appendages. “I’m Lucifer.”

“I’m Lilith,” and she holds out a hand, so utterly without fear. Lucifer takes it, is a little surprised by himself – and when their hands touch, the burn of the mark dims for just a moment.

Lucifer stays far longer than he intended to.

He returns far more often than he ever intended to, and he answers all the questions Lilith has. She has a lot of questions, and she is so smart. Soon, she starts asking different questions, ones Lucifer doesn’t have answers for.

_Because God decreed it_ isn't enough of an answer anymore, not when Lilith keeps asking _why_ – and not when Lucifer, himself, is beginning to question _why._

When she comes to see him one day carrying new shadows in her eyes and bruises around her wrists, Lucifer hugs her. Then he gives her a small blade and shows her how to hold it, how to use it, and tells her she should never have to bear _that_.

When they part, the shadows are lesser, the bruises are gone, and her eyes are fierce.

Michael looks at him again, but his expression frightens Lucifer. There is nothing left of the warmth that turned his eyes the color of moss that Lucifer loved; instead they’re now chips of that new stone their Father called emerald. Cold and distant and hard.

“You brought unrest among the Angels,” Michael accuses, and Lucifer shakes his head because yes, he spoke against humans but only among the Archangels and to their Father.

“You brought unrest to Heaven,” Michael continues, ignoring the gesture. He advances on Lucifer, and suddenly his sword is in his hands and Lucifer retreats backwards, staring wide-eyed. “You corrupted one of the new humans into something that should not be. By decree of our Father, you are to be cast out of Heaven for your transgression.”

Cast out…! “This is my home!” Lucifer calls, desperate now. Michael doesn’t slow down, doesn’t put the sword away. Lucifer is running out of room. “Michael, please stop! What’s going on – why can’t I feel our bond?!”

The last is a pained shout as he tries to reach his mate through the bond and finds only nothingness. Michael grimaces.

“Our Father severed it on my request,” he snarls. “I cannot be bound to you anymore. You are corrupted, and you corrupt in turn.”

Lucifer can’t breathe, can’t speak. His heart hurts too much, and the world is suddenly blurry. The swing catches him by surprise, the blade of Michael’s sword biting deep into his arm. Instinct has him scramble backwards, and then his own sword is in his hands and he’s fighting his mate – fighting Michael.

Instinct serves him well, too well, and soon Michael’s blood is dripping to the floor too, from a cut to one wing. Michael hisses in pain and Lucifer trembles in horror.

“I’m so sorry!” he whispers, then yelps as Michael lunges at him, teeth bared in a snarl. He barely brings up his sword in time to keep his mate – not his mate anymore, the voice hisses – from slicing off his arm.

Michael’s next strike aims for his head, and through the pain and the horror Lucifer realizes – either he runs, or his brother will cut him down where he stands.

Lucifer turns and runs.

The mark on his arm burns.

Throwing himself over the edge of Heaven was once a joy, a game among his siblings to see who would dive the fastest. Now, it’s a desperate leap for safety as Michael’s sword cuts into his lowest pair of wings. Lucifer cries out in pain, and then he _screams_.

Nobody has ever been cast out of Heaven.

Nobody has ever been cursed in oldest Enochian, words that hold power within them.

Lucifer cannot move, cannot react. He sees Earth come up, green and blue and beautiful, and then pain is all he knows.

He slams into the Earth not just with the velocity of his Fall, but also driven by the curse Michael cast upon him. It drives him deeper into the Earth, an additional weight upon him. Lucifer screams as his wing bones shatter, sobs for breath as other bones snap with horrible sounds.

Unconsciousness is a blessing.

Even an Archangel would need time to heal from wounds such as this.

Lucifer isn't an Archangel with access to Heaven’s power anymore, has to heal by his own strength.

He doesn’t know how long he lies at the bottom of the crater his impact created, a broken, discarded toy.

His wings are agony, and he knows deep down that if he does not somehow set them, they will never heal right.

_Michael did that,_ the voice hisses. _He took your home from you, and he took the sky from you_.

Lucifer doesn’t have the strength to disagree. He barely has the strength to cling to life.

She is fearless again, in the way of one who has learned what lurks in the world and has decided she is more dangerous, and that is what makes her beautiful to Lucifer.

She is careful as she climbs down into his crater, but there is no fear in her eyes even as his power dances over his skin, out of control because _he_ is almost out of control. Out of his mind. What he sees instead is a bitterness that echoes within him.

He never understood the Darkness, never understood how she could be so bitter, so petty, so full of rage.

Now, as his screams echo over the empty landscape with every twitch of a wing as Lilith sets them for him, he understands. When Lilith sits back, her hands and arms covered in the blood of an Archangel, her gaze fierce and unafraid, he understands.

She smiles at him, more a baring of teeth than an expression of humor. “They wronged us,” she whispers and her voice is different from the one in his head but the words are the same. “They hurt us where they should’ve loved us. Love is weak. Make me strong, Lucifer. I want to make them _pay_.”

He looks up at her, and he smiles back as hatred stretches awake in his heart, pulsing in rhythm with the agony that is his wings.

He doesn’t have access to Heaven’s power anymore, but there are laws to the universe not even God or an Archangel can change anymore.

Being the First of anything is something special, and Lucifer is the First Fallen Archangel. There is power at his beck and call, power in the hatred in his heart. He can taste its potential, and he wraps his hand around her slender wrist and doesn’t know where the words come from, but they feel right.

“Lilith, First of my students,” he names her. “I promise, we will teach them regret.”

Lilith’s smile widens as something between them clicks into place. She settles at his side, a watchful guardian as Lucifer rests and heals.

The voice in his head is silent.

(The pain in his wings will never stop, not after they are healed, not after he loses his physical form. Lucifer hates Michael just a little more for it every time he flies and it is agony. Deep down, that hate hurts just as much as his wings.)

In the Cage, Michael watches as Lucifer’s form ripples in silent agony. He doesn’t dare reach out, doesn’t know what the strange white tendrils in Lucifer’s glowing form are – doesn’t know what caused Lucifer such agony.

_That’s a lie, Archangel,_ Adam murmurs in his thoughts. They’ve spent a lot of time communicating like this by now. It’s not as if there is much else to do in here – Sam screamed himself into insanity long ago, after his body vanished. A soul really isn’t made to withstand Hell, let alone the Cage. When it disappeared in a flash of white light and Azrael’s wings, Michael was honestly relieved – whatever the Angel of Death intends with the soul, it’s probably kinder than leaving it in here.

Lucifer hasn’t moved the entire time, a tightly curled blob of echoing agony.

And Adam is right. With everything that happened, everything humanity did… with the perspective of a mind that wasn’t inclined to believe every word a father said anymore, it was easier to see. To understand.

Lucifer hurts, lost in horrible memories, and there is nothing Michael can do but watch in silent penance.

Hell is Hell, even for the Viceroy of Heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make an author's day <3


End file.
